Impossible, Inevitable
by almaviva47
Summary: "Lexa is pretty sure her mind is broken. It has to be broken, because Clarke Griffin, international pop star, could not possibly be staring at Lexa. But then, said impossible Clarke Griffin takes a step towards her, and everything in Lexa's world that isn't Clarke fades away." A Pop Star AU oneshot (two-shot) where Lexa attends Clarke Griffins' tour and the impossible happens.
1. Chapter 1

Lexa hates crowds. She hates how complete strangers suddenly think it's acceptable to break the unspoken rules of society and ignore all concepts of personal space. Sweaty arms and damp chests press up against Lexa, and she nearly gags when she feels a droplet of sweat fall and roll across her left shoulder. Her only saving grace is the metal railing pressing tightly to her front and running all the way across the width of the stadium, leaving several feet of buffer room between the crowd and the imposing stage before her. Lexa clings to the silvery barricade with all her might. As shitty as this situation is, Lexa at least admires her sister's ability to aggressively shove her way up to the front row at a concert.

 _I am never going out with Anya again_ , Lexa vows with intense conviction. Somehow, her crazy older sister persuaded her that coming to see Clarke and the Delinquents' _Wanheda_ tour at Barclays would be a fabulous idea. It was the last stop on the tour, a fitting end for the native New York band. Lexa usually preferred the calm and comfort of a night-in, choosing to catch up on work she hadn't finished at the DA's office rather than get drunk and party the night away. Yet even she was not immune to Anya's persistence, that and the uncomfortable pangs of loneliness that accompany Lexa more and more often these days. Maybe she does need to get out more, enjoy society and whatnot, but right now, Lexa feels like she's made a huge mistake.

Lexa wrinkles her nose as she takes in the musky scent of weed drifting from a few sections away. She almost wishes she had smoked some herself if only to bend her reality away from its current unsavoriness. Anya had gone off to get two pints of beer, leaving Lexa all alone to fend off the space invaders. Lexa distracts herself by staring at the empty stage in front of her. Her mind wanders to the group that in just a matter of minutes would soon light up the stage in all its excessive brilliance.

Unlike most cases where pop culture was concerned, Lexa actually knew about the band and fairly enjoyed their music whenever it popped up on the radio. The group was known for its catchy and eclectic mixture of style. The whimsical harmonies and unique instruments landed them in the alternative and indie category. The bombastic drums and thrumming beats had a flavor of heavy metal and grunge that Lexa secretly loved. But the most critical and alluring ingredient to their success was Clarke Griffin. Captivating, commanding, enigmatic, _beautiful_ Clarke Griffin. The lead vocalist's voice reminds Lexa of a combination of a soulful folksinger and a belting powerhouse. Within a song, Clarke Griffin could effortlessly manipulate her voice to shift between emotional spectrums that left Lexa uncharacteristically moved. Her creativity and musical vision is what powers the dynamic and singular sound of the band. Her experiences and the depth of her poetry drive the layered emotion in nearly all of her songs. To Lexa, it was an undeniable fact that the majority of the band's massive success was achieved by Clarke's genius.

A forceful shove on Lexa's shoulder abruptly interrupts Lexa's thoughts and pushes her painfully into the metal railing. Rubbing her aching ribs, Lexa snaps her head around ready to chew off the perpetrator when she comes face to face with Anya, gingerly holding two cups of beer that have miraculously remained full. Lexa wonders how often Anya had to party in college to gain that particular skill.

"Ugh, finally!" Anya shimmies over to press against the railing next to Lexa, unbothered by the grumbles of discontented concertgoers around them. "I thought I would never get back in time. Wouldn't want you to have all the fun without me!"

Lexa rolls her eyes. "Oh yes, had I known that going to a concert also includes penguin huddling and a free unhygienic sauna session, I would have agreed sooner." The dryness of her sarcasm was met with a beer shoved in her face.

"Bah, humbug. I know how much you secretly fangirl over this band. I've caught you singing 'May We Meet Again' multiple times in the shower," Anya grabs Lexa's hand and wraps her long fingers around the cup. "Bottoms up!" Anya clinks the two cups of beer together before downing her own cup all in one go. Lexa does the same, though mainly because she will undoubtedly spill beer all over herself if she's holding onto it when the concert begins. Anya wipes the foam from her lips before nudging Lexa, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You'll at least get to enjoy the serious eye candy in this band. My personal favorite is Reyes, but Clarke is pretty easy on the eyes too."

Lexa scoffs, but she can't hide the involuntary flush that creeps up her neck and face. Of course she had noticed that Clarke Griffin is attractive. Who hadn't? She carries an infectious energy that only enhances her stunning features. Sometimes, Clarke seems utterly unreal, exuding an ethereal aura of that of a legend or a person larger than life. Other times, she seems completely relatable, down-to-earth, and untouched by the vanity of fame. It was that dichotomous combination that drew most people, including Lexa, into her fandom.

Suddenly, the lights dim and the stadium erupts in excitement, abruptly interrupting Lexa's thoughts before they wandered deeper. Applause and ecstatic screams erupt at ear-splitting volumes, and Lexa can't help but get swept into the joyful pandemonium. Her mood lightens just a little bit as she and Anya exchange gleaming looks. Slow shimmering background music fills the stadium, ramping up the audience as they wait in completely darkness. Backlights gradually light up the stage enough to reveal the outlines of a complex set. Members of the band begin to file onstage, their movements slow and their figures still obscure but for their silhouettes. A small woman with long black hair dressed in a dark leather ensemble makes her way to the drum set, while a tall man with shaggy black hair picks up the bass next to her. The next man walks in almost humbly, his dark skin contrasting starkly against the shine of his white electric guitar as he pulls the straps above him. A tiny but fit girl swaggers onstage, her ponytail swinging wildly around as she strides up to the keyboard and mixer with easy confidence. Anya cheers particularly loud for her and leans closer to the barricade. All members are soon accounted for save one, and Lexa can't help but feel a swell of anticipation as the crowd gets louder and rowdier. The band drowns the noise out as they begin to play the opening chords of a song. It's slow, repetitive, and tantalizing, meant to build upon the growing tension in the stadium.

Then, rising from a hidden entrance in the stage, one lone figure slowly rises in the middle of the stage. She is shadowed and hidden in the low light, her blonde hair the only visible feature aside from her silhouette. Suddenly, the figure is basked in blinding light as the spotlights converge on the woman, and the stadium erupts in ground-shaking ovation.

Lexa feels like she's been punched in the gut. Not ten feet away stands Clarke Griffin, and she is more beautiful and ethereal than Lexa could have ever imagined. Her blonde hair flows in messy braids and waves, reflecting the gleaming light as it frames her face. Her pale skin glows as a light flush sprinkles her cheeks. Pale pink lips are parted as if in awe of the crowd in front of her. Dark makeup accentuates the gleaming sapphire eyes that coolly scan the sold-out stadium before her. She stands firmly with her feet planted beneath her shoulders, her posture exuding one of complete ease and silent strength.

Lexa is surprised at how much Clarke looks like her pictures, which in retrospect is absolutely ridiculous on Lexa's part. _Of course she looks like her pictures_ , she scolds herself, _they're pictures, not Picasso paintings_. And yet there was something about Clarke's presence and the dynamic way her energy fills the stadium that a camera could never capture. The way her blue eyes shine out into the audience and flash with life. The way her body thrums with the excitement and aura of a larger-than-life figure that demands attention and commands respect. The way the audience reacts to her presence, a group of strangers united by a figure worthy of their mutual adoration and idolization. Lexa realizes no simple snapshot could ever do Clarke Griffin justice, not without diminishing her essence. The sight of her kick starts Lexa's heart into erratic rhythms the way no picture or person has elicited in her before. She feels as if she were looking at Clarke for the first time, and the privilege and vulnerability that came with that thought sent her heart racing.

Lexa takes in the tight leather ensemble that wraps snuggly around the singer with metal buckles accentuating the curves of her waist and chest. Dark jeans look painted onto toned legs and heeled knee-high boots dig firmly into the ground. She looks heavenly and deadly at the same time, and Lexa can't take her eyes off of her.

Lexa is entirely distracted and unashamedly admiring Clarke's figure when she lifts her eyes and finds piercing blue staring at her. Her breath stutters to a halt, her whole body set aflame by the intensity shining in those blue eyes. She can't move, blink, or scarcely breathe. The whole world goes hazy until all she can see is blue, blue, blue. Her mind, the only thing that remains unfrozen, grasps to understand her situation. She must be drunk from that beer or high from all those fumes. Hell, she'd even accept the possibility that she's hallucinating. Because if she's not drunk, high, or hallucinating, then that means Clarke Griffin really is staring at her right here and now, and that couldn't be possible.

Their heated stare couldn't have lasted more than seven seconds, and yet each second felt like an eternity. Lexa stares back, eyes wide, face full of disbelief and unnamed emotions. It is Clarke who breaks their stare first, smirking lightly with a tug of her lips as if she had observed Lexa's previous body-gazing before turning back towards the screaming audience, leaving Lexa utterly dazed and brain-fried. Lexa remains unrecovered several songs into their set, her mind still reeling from what had just transpired. Anya has barely noticed any of Lexa's display, fully enraptured in the music and the musicians onstage.

"HELLO NEW YORK CITY!"

The crowd screams back as Clarke strides with full confident steps to the front of the stage, the hollering crowds growing more frantic and rabid with every swaying stomp of her studded heeled boots. Soon, Clarke is standing on the stage edge right in front of Lexa, and Lexa can hardly breathe. The blonde was even more stunning up close, her blue eyes shining so brilliantly against her pale skin that was already covered with a light sheen of sweat. The reflection of her sweat only made her look celestial as dozens of spotlights turned the small droplets into sparkling stars. As Lexa unashamedly stares at Clarke, she thinks she sees a flash of blue flicker and reach Lexa for a millisecond before pulling away. Clarke begins to thank her audience effusively for attending, declaring her love for her home city. Clarke looks down and admires the leather ensemble that clung to every curve and line of her body. She takes a few seconds to thank her costume designer, Miller, for pulling through despite her eclectic tastes in fashion.

Without preamble, Clarke takes both hands and cups her chest, exaggerating the shadows of her cleavage as she cracks a mischievous grin. "Don't my tits look great?" The crowd eagerly roars back with enthusiastic screams of affirmation. Lexa nearly chokes at the sight, only to recover a few seconds later and join the chaotic chorus with an appreciative cheer of her own. Despite priding herself on her cool and pragmatic attitude, it was painfully obvious that Lexa was not immune to the singer's deliciously feminine body and generous assets. The flush in her face and the tightness in her chest are only growing in intensity, and suddenly she is grateful for the EMTs standing by with stretchers and cool fluids. The girls around her surely felt the same, though they were far more open about sharing them with others than Lexa.

"YAAAAS QUEEN!"

"BLESS YOUR BOBBIES!"

"I'M SO GAY!"

 _Me too_ , Lexa thought before she could stop herself. God, what had gotten into her? Here she is, a successful and sought-after criminal prosecutor in Brooklyn, "Commander" of the courtroom, and survivor of Anya's crossfit regiment, literally loosing her mind and body over a pop star.

 _A hot pop star_. Lexa mentally slaps herself before taking a deep breath to clear her mind. But then she remembers the piercing gaze of blue eyes and her whole body goes into overdrive again.

Clarke and the band forge on in their setlist, pounding out hit after hit and filling the stadium with evocative and catchy melodies. Clarke is always drawn back to the front of the stage and nearer to her beloved fans. Lexa feels lucky that Clarke favors the right side of the stage tonight and therefore offers her plenty of moments to just admire the singer. Clarke pours her heart and soul into each song, her body swaying, rocking, and tensing at each powerful phrase. Her voice shimmers throughout the stadium, every rough edge and glossy cascade of melody calling out to the audience like a Greek siren. Lexa is completely enchanted and finds herself pulled inexorably into Clarke's magnetic influence. Part of her realizes how quickly she is falling for a woman who is utterly unattainable. Yet just like the sailors who eagerly thrusted themselves upon crashing rocks, Lexa feels all to eager to fall deeper into this blissful abyss.

"Hey…I smell marijuana," Clarke notices after finishing a song, shifting her head side-to-side and trying to sniff out the culprit. She shuffles and juts out her hip, moving to cross her arms over her chest. Her face is all set to reprimand as she cocks up an eyebrow.

"Who is not sharing?"

The crowd shrieks in response and goes completely ballistic for their rebellious idol. Clarke's proclivity for using Mary Jane during her creative process has not escaped the public's attention. Her fans didn't lovingly dub her the Vape Queen for nothing.

After the crowd dies down, Clarke replaces her smirk with a more sobering expression. Her voice, now serious and somber, reminds her audience that as fun as these legal and recreational drugs are, they can always be abused and used more for harm than good. With a shaky breath, Clarke begins sharing her own experience of abusing alcohol and drugs in the three months after the death of her then-boyfriend, musician Finn Collins, and the split from her record label. She had discovered that the label had intentionally overworked him to get more sales, and the constant exhaustion had trigger Finn's undiagnosed congenital heart disease. He had collapsed on stage while Clarke looked on in horror from the wings. The tragedy was well known media, and yet Clarke telling it on her own feels far more invasive than any media article. Lexa's heart, already full of emotions and warmth she can't quite understand, shatters for the beautiful yet broken artist in front of her. It was clear how much that period still haunts Clarke, and Lexa aches to comfort protect the girl who now looks so small and vulnerable on the vast stage she stands on. Lexa feels a sharp pang in her chest remember her own personal loss – her parents, her first love, her mentor. Suddenly, Clarke Griffin doesn't seem so unworldly and ethereal as before. She is just a young woman who has endured pain and suffering at far too early an age, just like Lexa.

"I had no record label, no job, no secure future, and I had just lost a person who I loved," Clarke continues, her voice unguarded and vulnerable. "I fell into alcohol and drugs to numb the pain, but all it did was make me feel worse. People who I was close to felt far away, probably because the drugs made it so that I wasn't really 'there'." She casts her eyes down, as if she was ashamed and unworthy to make eye contact with her audience.

"But you, my beautiful amazing fans. You stuck by me, made me feel whole and loved when the drugs couldn't. I cannot tell you how much I truly love each and every one of you." Clarke's voice is thick with genuine emotion, her words shining with honesty and gratefulness. Lexa feels those words lodge themselves deep into the core of her soul. Lexa would normally find this absolutely ridiculous, the amount of euphoria and adoration that pulses through her from the words of a stranger who doesn't even know her. Yet as she gazes upon the artist before her, in all her magnificence, she can't help but think that falling for this woman would be the most natural thing in the world.

Part way through, Clarke, one of the few out and proud bisexual women in the music industry, dedicates a song to the LGBT community, one of her strongest and most loyal fanbases. She is radiant as she sings and dances around stage, a rainbow flag grasped in her fist trailing after her like a cape.

"Love is love is love is love!" Clarke chants, waving the rainbow flag proudly as the crowd roars and applauds and echoes it back tenfold. The awe in Clarke's face shines in her eyes as she hears unprejudiced love ring throughout the stadium, and Lexa falls deeper into her spell.

Soon, far too soon, the concert has only one more song left on the set list. Lexa mourns that time has passed all too quickly for her, and she wistfully wishes the night could go on forever. She watches as Clarke and the Delinquents kick off the bombastic finale, lights flashing and pulsing in the background. Lexa only has a few minutes left of Clarke Griffin's presence before she fades and resumes her place in the stationary pictures of tabloid magazines, and the realization feels like someone dumped ice water over her head. She's taken aback at how visceral the ache in her chest feels, and a profound grief washes over her like nothing she's experienced before.

Overcome by the thought, Lexa decides to thrust herself completely into the last song, a deep pulsing anthem full of relentless and dangerous attraction. Lexa fully commits to immersing her body and soul into the rhythm of the drums, losing herself to the depths of Clarke's siren song. Her eyes never leave Clarke, refusing to let a precious second of the artist's presence slip away.

Suddenly, Clarke darts off to the left of the stage running down the steps until suddenly, she is off the stage and on the ground floor beyond the metal barricade. The entire stadium explodes with shrill screams as Clarke takes off in a sprint and begins to do a lap around the ground floor. Lexa bits back her groan of disappointment as Clarke runs out of her line of sight. She swivels around, craning her head desperately to find Clarke in the crowd. Lexa is suddenly worried – is she safe running around the stadium so close to the audience? Does she have security following her? What if she trips and injures herself? Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she is again realizing the absurdity of worrying after Clarke, but she brushes it aside as she continues to sweep her gaze across the stadium, looking for a flash of wavy blonde hair.

Suddenly, incredibly, _impossibly_ , right in front of Lexa is that wavy blonde hair, along with that stupidly gorgeous body, that ridiculously sexy outfit, and _that face_. That exquisitely stunning face smudged with dark makeup, covered in sweat, and currently focusing two sapphire blue eyes directly at Lexa.

Lexa is pretty sure her mind is broken. It has to be broken, because Clarke Griffin, awe-inspiring, charismatic, and _gorgeous_ Clarke Griffin could not possibly be staring at Lexa, _again_. But then, said impossible Clarke Griffin takes a step towards her, and everything in Lexa's world that isn't the woman in front of her fades away.

" _And the heart is hard to translate_

 _It has a language of its own_

 _It talks in tongues and quite sighs_

 _And prayers and proclamation"_

Lexa vaguely hears Clarke singing in the background, but the sound feels distant as passing through layers of gauze wrapped around her ears. She's too preoccupied staring at a pair of lips that curl and wrap around every word and note, weaving a spell that captivates Lexa until all she can think about is how those lips would feel pressed up against her skin. Clarke moves even closer to Lexa, eyes never leaving and blazing with growing intensity and she continues to take slow agonizing steps towards Lexa. Lexa feels an aching pull in the middle of her chest towards the woman in front of her, and she cannot help but lean further into the metal railing. Clarke is only a step away, moving as if she too felt that magnetic pull.

Clarke steps, and the two women connect with a quiet force of an underwater earthquake – silent and unseen yet felt in the very foundations of the earth. Clarke moves with complete fluidity, taking a step and sliding her free hand to cup the side of Lexa's face as if it were a well-worn move rather than the first touch. Lexa is briefly aware of Anya's ecstatic whooping and the shoving of disembodied arms desperate to reach out and touch the superstar in front of them. But she can't feel anything but the scorching heat of Clarke Griffin's hand as it brushes up her face and slides across her hair, brushing damp strands with tenderness that Lexa had never felt before. A rush of emotion sweeps through Lexa, something so strong and shocking and yet so completely _right._

" _And I would give all this and heaven too!_

 _I would give it all if only, for a moment,_

 _That I could understand the meaning of the words you see_

 _Cause I've been scrawling it forever but it never made sense to me at all"_

Clarke croons into the mic, never breaking her stare with wide green eyes. She takes one last step to bring her whole body against the metal barricade that separates her from Lexa and slips her foot in a slot on top of the bottom metal rail. Clarke heaves herself up, and suddenly Lexa finds herself mere inches from the most gorgeous sight she's ever seen. Clarke gazes at her, eyes trailing across her face, her lips curving into a grin that radiates giddiness, and Lexa has never felt more alive and dead at the same time. She's vaguely aware of the stadium going wild as fans crowd her to get closer to Clarke. But lack of personal space is the farthest thing from her mind, especially when she can almost feel the heat radiating from the beautiful singer.

Hands are on Lexa's face, caressing her temple and gliding over glossy hair, pulling her unbearably closer to Clarke. Clarke lifts her head every so slightly, bringing Lexa's face just slightly below hers so that her forehead rests on the crown of Lexa's head, her nose skimming the surface of Lexa's forehead as she leans in. Lexa swears she takes in a deep inhale as if overcome by their proximity. Lexa is absolutely overwhelmed. She slides her eyes shut and releases a trembling exhale as she feels Clarke's own breath tickle and heat her cheeks. Without thinking, Lexa reaches out a hand and gently grasps Clarke's wrist, her other hand travelling further and daring to return Clarke's touch by cupping the side of Clarke's face. Lexa has no idea where she summoned all this bravado, her only thought was to keep Clarke as close to her as possible and relish her touch, her smell, her warmth. She can almost hear the satisfaction ringing in Clarke's voice as she sings her last stanza.

"… _And all my stumbling phrases never amounted to anything worth this feeling_

 _All this heaven never could describe such a feeling as I'm feeling_

 _Words were never so useful_

 _So I was screaming out a language that I didn't know existed before."_

The music fades to a glittering conclusion, and acute pain rams through Lexa when she realizes that now, it truly _is_ over. She feels Clarke gently pull back, her touch still lingering on damp skin, and Lexa briefly entertains the silly thought that Clarke too may feel just as reluctant as she is to have lost contact. Blue eyes once again connect with green, and a spark flashes through Clarke's eyes before she suddenly darts her head forward and plants a lingering kiss on Lexa's cheek. Lexa is stunned. Her jaw drops as her hand involuntarily squeezes Clarke's wrist still captured in her grip. Clarke just grins at her, pulling the mic away from her before leaning in again.

"Thanks dollface," Clarke purrs before offering her a perfect wink and bringing the mic back to her face.

"THANK YOU NEW YORK AND GOODNIGHT!"

Clarke suddenly turns and makes a mad dash back to the stage and disappears in a flash of shiny leather and golden hair, leaving Lexa completely dumbstruck and stupidly stroking her cheek that was branded with the red of Clarke's lipstick.

Lexa hardly registers the stadium lighting back up, the slow filing of fans off of the floor, or the rain of aggressive jabs her sister lands on her side about what she just witnessed. Lexa's grateful they are packed so upfront and therefore couldn't move just yet, because there is no way her mind could comprehend what just happened while also controlling her motor function. Just before she and Anya finally saw an opening in the audience, hands fall on either of their shoulders. They jerk around to see a giant man, obviously a bodyguard, regarding them with a passive expression.

"Clarke Griffin would like to express her thanks for your participation in the finale by asking that you come backstage and be given VIP access. Would you like to accept?"

Lexa can't talk, too astounded to answer. Luckily, Anya all to eagerly accepts and drags Lexa to trail after the bodyguard, who led them further and further backstage. This is now just another thing to add to the list of events that she still has no idea how to comprehend. Why was Clarke Griffin staring at her like that? Why did she react to Clarke the way she did? Does Clarke's stunt happen every concert? Was it a moment of spontaneity spurred on by honest emotion? Or was it all an act? The questions worry Lexa, but the warmth that blossomed in her chest at the thought of potentially seeing Clarke Griffin again make her feel something strangely akin to hope. Maybe she'll finally get some answers from Clarke, even if they aren't the answers she hopes for.


	2. Chapter 2

Clarke is staring pensively in no particular direction when her assistant knocks on her dressing room door to announce the arrival of her visitors. Clarke lets out a grateful sigh, relieved that her quick thinking to send him on a wild goose chase actually paid off. She is uncharacteristically tense for having just finished a two-hour set. Usually, exhaustion has seeped well into her bones by the time Clarke makes it to her dressing room, and it wasn't uncommon for her band mates to find her fast asleep over her laptop trying to squeeze in some last minute edits on a recording. But tonight was different. Her veins thrum and pulse with adrenaline, her legs bounce as if to relieve the building pressure in her chest. She'd like to think it was the fact that she was back in New York and that playing for her most devoted fans had riled her up. But she already knew why tonight was different.

From the moment she stepped on stage Clarke had taken notice of the mysterious brunette. Her beauty had stunned Clarke silly with her strong slender frame, mass of wavy hair, and astonishingly green eyes. For a brief moment Clarke had forgotten the screaming stadium in front of her. She managed to refocus most of her attention back to her performance and the rabid audience around her, but she couldn't resist peaking and getting closer to the brunette all throughout the night.

There was something magnetic about the girl, something that lay beyond her physical attractiveness that drew Clarke's attention. She could feel it, simmering beneath the surface and within the gleam of emerald eyes. It was like the moments right before Clarke composes where she could almost taste the boundless potential and inevitability. Perhaps that was what compelled her to bound down the stage and do what she had been aching to do all evening. When Clarke touched the girl for the first time, her hand gracing over a stunned face, her breath had nearly been forced out of her chest. She knew nothing about the girl, and yet looking at her, being near her, touching her, ignited such a strong sense of belonging that even Clarke's whimsical romanticism didn't quite know how to handle it.

Clarke knows how completely foolish and insane it is to chase a girl she didn't know after physically smothering her without explicit permission, but she also knows that whatever had passed between them was too important to not warrant a second look. So here she is, still in her performance outfit, gathering up her wits and standing awkwardly by the door before she steps out to greet her mysterious guest. Clarke is already out the door heading down to the waiting room when she her stomach plummets with sudden dread. Clarke had literally launched herself at the brunette without warning and promptly invited her backstage to "express her thanks". She might as well be waving a red flag in her hand when she meets her. _You idiot,_ Clarke cringes, _if you didn't scare her before you've definitely set off alarm bells now_.

She looks down the corridor and sees the door of the waiting room taunting her just a few feet away. _She's right there_ , Clarke thinks, trying to steady her breathing. _She's here because you asked her to be. You can't back out now, not when you still can't shake that feeling out of your mind, not when need to understand what the hell happened between us._

Clarkes shakes her arms and head lightly, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, performing the ritual she does before stepping on the stage to calm her nerves. She pushes forward and opens the door only to be greeted by an unexpected sight. Three women are crowded around each other, their attention preoccupied by some object in the middle. Clarke immediate sees Raven in the group wearing her proud smirk, her face in full view between the backs of the two other women. She can see one woman has blonde messy hair draping down a broad and athletic frame. She is talking animatedly with Raven, who continues to gleam with pride. The other woman has wavy brown hair (soft too, this Clarke knew) draping down between sharp shoulders and a slender frame. Before Clarke can say anything, Raven notices Clarke at the doorway and perks up.

"Clarke! Nice of you to finally join us! I was just keeping these girls company and showing them the new mods I made on the synthesizer. I even sampled that addictive melody you wrote a week ago on it, though I have to say my new mods makes it nearly orgasmic. I'm sure they can all agree now that I am the most essential member of our band."

Raven's greeting brings the attention to Clarke, and both women turn around to face her. Clarke feels her heart slam into her chest. The brunette is absolutely breathtaking. Her striking features, previously shadowed by poor stadium lighting, are now fully on display in the well lit waiting room. For a split second, Clarke ascends to a different plane of existence where she promptly begins to freak out very vocally. What has gotten into her? She has literally held conversations with Grammy winners and music legends. Yet here she is, completely thunderstruck by a girl.

After a much-needed moment, Clarke descends back to reality and distracts herself temporarily by turning her attention to her problematic best friend.

"Clearly, you're not quite essential enough to prevent getting kicked out of the group for revealing _confidential_ material to our guests here," Clarke quips, arching her eyebrow menacingly. It only made Raven's grin stretch wider with mischievous glee.

Clarke turns her attention back to the brunette and flashes her most brilliant smile, her eagerness to get to know the gorgeous girl in front of her pushing her trepidations aside momentarily. She saunters forward, ignoring the strange gleam in Raven's eyes and extending her hand out to the girl in front of her.

"Hi, I'm Clarke. Thank you so much for coming."

The girl looks momentarily stunned and stares dumbly at Clarke's waiting hand. She seems to shake herself out of a reverie before slipping a warm hand into Clarke's. Bright green eyes flit up to look at Clarke, still slightly wide as if they were still processing who they were staring at.

"Hi, I'm Lexa."

Clarke nearly melts at the brunette's melodic voice. As a singer, Clarke has always been particularly sensitive towards voices. If she wanted to be dramatic, she would even say that a person's voice could even make or break her relationships. Lexa's voice is on another level. It was almost song-like, flowing with a smoothness and richness that matched perfectly with the higher register of her voice. She speaks with soft and calm tones, yet Clarke could easily see that voice ring out with a powerful resonance that commands attention. Clarke thinks that she might actually be the first person to fall in love with someone based on voice alone.

"Lexa," Clarke echoes. She relishes how the name rolls off her tongue almost sensually. "It's so lovely to meet you. Officially." She throws a sly wink at the brunette and adores the way Lexa's cheeks flush.

Clarke squeezes the slender hand in her grip lightly before reluctantly releasing it. She manages to tear her gaze away from Lexa to face at the smirking blonde beside her. Lexa remains still, slowly dropping her released hand. Clarke flickers her eyes between the two women. Realization hits Lexa, her eyes going wide and her mouth dropping in a silent "O" as she fumbles in her recovery.

"O-Oh, sorry! This is my sister, Anya."

"It's so great to meet you! I'm a huge fan of your work," Anya eagerly shakes Clarke's offered hand. "I never would have imagined I'd get the chance to meet you, let alone be invited personally to come backstage!"

Clarke chuckles, delighted to see genuine excitement from her newfound fan. "It's my pleasure. It's the least I could do after putting you two at the epicenter of my finale. I see you've already met my original deliquent." Raven puffs up at the title.

"You mean your better half."

"Yeah, if by better half you mean the parasitic and less attractive conjoined twin I'm forced to deal with."

"Well that's because you literally can't live without me."

"Says the girl who called me 'mom' yesterday, un-sarcastically."

Raven rolls her eyes as a lopsided grin tugs at her lips. "Alright, I concede your victory in our verbal sparring, only because I know it might last over an hour if I don't graciously let you win now." She shifts her eyes from Clarke to look at the women beside her. "Besides, we've got better things to do, like impress pretty women." Raven's eyes glint mischievously as she gives a pointed look at Clarke and waggles her eyebrows.

Before Clarke can sputter out her protest and hide her growing blush, Raven grabs Anya's arm and tugs her out of the room, chatting excitedly about her other innovations. Anya looks ecstatic and follows her eagerly, leaving Clarke alone next to Lexa.

Clarke looks at Lexa, who looks like she is fighting off a similar case of intense embarrassment. A smile tugs at her lips before she quirks her head towards the door.

"Lexa, you mind joining me back in my dressing room? I've got a few mindless tasks to take care of and I'd love company." Clarke shrugs her shoulders in an effort to seem casual and not scare the girl away. "I'd like the chance to get to know you better, if that's alright with you."

Lexa merely continues the stare as she gives Clarke a slight nod, her face still slightly bewildered. Clarke's grin widens, not at all unfazed by her silence. They walk out and head down the corridor back to Clarke's room. Clarke's eyes can't help but flick to the girl beside her, her heart jumping when she sees the girl doing to same thing with Clarke.

"I hope you enjoyed the concert."

"I did, very much. It was phenomenal. I didn't know live concerts could be so exhilarating. It almost felt like an out of body experience, especially towards the end."

Clarke flushes as she remembers particular moments at the end of her concert and recalls just how _in_ her body she felt pressed up against Lexa.

"I'm glad you think so. I saved my favorite songs for the ending. Singing a love song that basically is trying to invalidate itself is oddly romantic to me." Clarke looks at Lexa, who is wearing a content smile on her lips and hums her agreement. Clarke works up the courage before bringing up what must be going through both their minds at the moment.

"Look, um, at the end of the concert, when we…" Clarke swallows nervously. "When we first met, I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable in any way. I know I didn't get your permission to approach you, and I'm sure you were overwhelmed. But I was really getting into the performance, and you didn't seem to mind…I just want to apologize if I crossed any boundaries."

Lexa looks up to her in surprise. Clarke Griffin, a celebrity who has every excuse to assume she can do what she pleases in her own show, is apologizing to Lexa for not respecting her space. It's even more ludicrous when Clarke is apologizing for essentially giving Lexa one of the most life-changing experiences of her life.

"Oh, not at all! It was ama- I mean, it was…it was memorable." Lexa can literally feel the heat on her face from her growing blush. "Anya will no doubt tease me for months about it, but it was worth it. There is absolutely nothing to apologize for."

"Ha! I'm relieved to hear that."

The two women share glances as they walk down the hall, both reveling in the knowledge that they both agreed how very _very_ memorable their first meeting was. Their hands brush occasionally as they walk down the narrow hall, sending shivers across arms and spines.

Clarke reaches the door first and grasps the handle. She turns back to Lexa and strikes a devilish look as she pushes the door open.

"Welcome to my lair. Beware of haphazard sheet music and eclectic musical instruments."

Lexa chuckles at Clarke's playfulness, no doubt surprised at how down to earth Clarke is with her. After a quick glance for permission, she steps in.

Lexa's eyes immediately widen and her jaw drops open slightly as she takes in the large dressing room. Every wall of the room is plastered with art. Pencil drawings, cartoons, watercolor, computer graphics, all ranging in quality from questionable amateur scribbles to full blown professional grade. Nearly all the drawings are of Clarke or the band. Only a few large canvas oil paintings of landscapes seem to have no relation to the band at all. Lexa drifts into the room, still in awe.

"They're mostly fan art." Clarke follows behind Lexa, reading the expression on Lexa's face. "I get a lot of them after every performance, and I try my best to have them posted on my walls at least for one night. My assistant has the thankless job of rotating through them every once in a while."

Lexa finds herself drawn to one of the larger canvas paintings containing a landscape of a vast forest. She stretches out a hand as if to stroke the textured brushstrokes. "Who gave you this one?"

"Oh that one? That's one of mine. I usually don't like to put my own stuff there, but going on a worldwide tour can be disorienting, spatially. That painting reminds me a bit of the outside world."

Lexa looks back at Clarke, her green eyes wide with shock. "You painted this?"

Clarke nods, almost embarrassingly. She doesn't like to show her art often, but somehow she doesn't mind Lexa looking at it, especially when she looks at it with such reverence.

"Clarke, this is amazing."

"Thank you. But really I think the best part of the room is all the fan art. It's so touching to see how much our music has affected them. It's the highest form of flattery, knowing your work is helping someone out for the better. God only knows how much my fans have gotten me through tough times."

Clarke walks over to one wall and strokes a particularly striking drawing of her with war paint smeared across her face.

"They made me feel like a warrior when I felt like I couldn't fight anymore. I know some people think it's silly, how much love I hold for fans. But…they saved me, you know?"

Clarke suddenly realizes how deep she's gotten in her conversation and that Lexa probably had no intention of serving as a shrink when she invited her in. Clarke sighs and leans against her couch in defeat.

"It's not strange."

Clarke lifts her head from the way and turns to glance at Lexa. She is wearing an undecipherable emotion on her face that softens when she reads sadness in Clarke's eyes. Clarke looks at her questioningly, silently asking her to continue.

"It's not strange," Lexa repeats, taking a small step towards Clarke. "It's brave. Tonight, when you stood up on stage and spoke about your loss, you left yourself vulnerable in front of thousands of people. You shared your pain, and in the process, you gave someone out there who is also suffering a chance to connect and find courage in your story. That's not weakness, it's strength."

Conviction rang in Lexa's voice. Clarke marveled at the way it both intimidated and comforted her.

"When I was twelve, my parents died in a drunk driving accident. Everything about life after that was hard, but it got easier when I met Costia. She and I met in college, and for a while things felt easier, lighter, happier. On the eve of our one-year anniversary, she was walking home one night with a friend and got stopped by the police looking for a suspect. Her friend got aggressive, and the guns came out. In the confusion, Costia was shot dead in the middle of a dark alley."

Lexa takes a shaky breath before continuing.

"It was like a cruel twist of fate. I thought I would never get over the pain, but I did. I turned that agony and hate into fighting for justice. Joining the DA's office was like a dream come true. People ask me why I slave over my job. Truth is, it's my way of coping with my loss."

Clarke looks on the verge of tears. Lexa reaches out and lightly grazes her forearm. Clarke sees the emotion shining in her green eyes as she looks at Clarke with complete earnest and admiration.

"Clarke, the point I'm trying to make is that people like us, people who have had far too much pain at such a young age, we do strange things to cope with what we've faced. And sharing how we beat that pain against all odds is never something to feel ashamed of. You say that the fans saved you. But really, you are saving each other."

Clarke is speechless. Lexa's confession has floored her, and all she can do is stare back and try to swallow down the emotions that threaten to spill from her.

"Lexa…thank you," Clarke says with quite intensity. "You didn't have to share that with me, but I'm so glad you did. I…I needed to hear that."

Lexa answers with a sympathetic smile and small nod, her fingers dropping from Clarke's forearm and she takes a step back to give Clarke room. The air in the room grows stuffy with the heavy mood that settles over them. Both Clarke and Lexa are awkwardly standing there, trying to find the right way to break the silence. It seems nearly impossible.

"I like candles."

The declaration is abrupt and unexpected. Clarke furrows her brow and jerks her head back to Lexa wearing a sheepish look. The atmosphere shifts from its somber state to something brighter

"I, uh, I really like candles," Lexa repeats, shuffling her feet, refusing to meet Clarke's eyes. "I go to Yankee Candle and practically buy them out."

 _And…?_ Clarke asks internally as continues staring at Lexa, a grin tugging at her lips as she arches her eyebrow. Lexa flicks her eyes up just in time to catch Clarke's unasked question.

"Well, since we were sharing some very deep and personal things, I thought it only fair to share my deepest and most shameful secret. It's honestly a serious addiction, and I might burn my house down because of it. But at least it does wonders for my electricity bill."

Lexa looks up at Clarke again, gauging her reaction. She prays her attempt at bringing more levity to their conversation doesn't fall flat. Her heart starts to sink when Clarke's face remains blank. Lexa is just about to backpedal so hard when Clarke breaks out into the most radiant smile. A huge guffaw of a laugh escapes Clarke as she throws her head back, blonde waves following her as her whole body shakes with laughter. Lexa body sags with relief, grateful she hasn't embarrassed herself even more in front of the beautiful singer. She sees the pure joy etched on Clarke's face and can't help breaking into a laugh of her own. They laugh and laugh until they can hardly catch their breaths.

Clarke hugs her burning abdomen as she wipes at the side of her eyes when she finally regains control. Her eyes sparkle as she takes in Lexa, still shaking from her own fit of laughter. Her body warms at the sight of the achingly beautiful woman who willingly made herself vulnerable one moment and silly the next just to cheer up Clarke. Now that Clarke is famous, she finds the number of people who genuinely appeal to Clarke as a person and not a celebrity who demands fawning have declined rapidly. She is happy beyond words that Lexa is part of that rare crowd.

"I guess it's a good thing that I happen to tolerate candles," Clarke replies, mirth dancing in sapphire eyes. "I don't know what I would do if something as silly as some pyro technique wax came between us." Lexa grins at Clarke and bites her lip to prevent another peal of laughter escaping her mouth. Clarke finds it unbearable attractive.

They fall into an easy conversation, flitting around from serious discussions to trivial comments. They talk as if they had known each other for years, not mere hours. It's comfortable, easy, and liberating. Neither woman acknowledges how strangely intimate it feels, and both are unwilling to break the spell that has been cast over them. The room around them seems to glow in warm hue as light laughter from both women bounce off the walls.

They shifted closer and closer together until there was barely a foot away. Clarke rests easily against the back of her couch, her hips buttressed by the hard edge of the couch as she leans back on hands placed on either side. Lexa faces Clarke at a right angle, her feet planted next to a nearby chez lounge. She leans her weight into her right arm, currently resting just a few inches away from Clarke's on the edge of the couch. Her posture is a picture of east and openness. Clarke's eyes gleam when she manages to draw out a hearty laugh from Lexa, loving the way she throws back her head and squeezes her eyes shut. She wonders when her heart will stop doing backflips in her chest.

"Hey," Clarke reaches out her hand and lightly drapes it over Lexa's when her laugh dies down. She only keeps it there for a few seconds, but her palm tingles long after she pulls back her touch. "I really appreciate you being so understanding about…" Clarke gesticulates wildly to the space around them, "all of this. I'm not sure most people would have taken my abrupt invitation and this rather personal conversation without thinking I was creepy or stalker-y." Clarke winces at her word choices. _You are really making this harder for yourself, aren't you?_ Clarke groans.

"Are you kidding me? I think most people would be thrilled," Lexa blushes, eyes flickering down to her hand that had just seconds ago been graced by Clarke's touch. She resists taking a few seconds to try and memorize the delicious feeling and returns her gaze back to Clarke. "Besides, I'm not a secret paparazzo ready to spill my guts to the nearest tabloid. I'm honestly still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I'm having this conversation with you in the first place."

Clarke laughs, eyes glowing with mirth. "Well, I appreciate it nonetheless. You never know in this industry. Anyone could go on and make a crazy rumor about you with the slightest bit of contextualized interaction."

Lexa smirks, eyes unable to take her eyes off of Clarke and her radiating smile. "Huh, well lucky for you, I'm not very dramatic."

"I don't know, you seemed pretty hammy to me back when I serenaded you," Clarke's blue eyes gleam playfully as she wiggles her eyebrow suggestively. "I rather enjoyed it."

Lexa is at a loss for words, suddenly feeling flushed remembering the caress of Clarke's hand, the heat of her breath on her cheeks, and the intensity that gleamed in her eyes just as it did now. She looked away, clearing her throat loudly hoping Clarke hadn't seen through her thoughts.

"I'm sure all the other guys and girls you pick each concert react the same way."

Clarke knits her eyebrows, confusion glossing over her face as she tilts her head. "Others? I've never done that before at any of my concerts. You were an entirely unexpected event."

"Wait, so you've never done that before? It wasn't planned?"

"Nope. Entirely spontaneous."

"But why? I mean, what was so special about tonight that made you want to end it that way?"

Lexa looks completely confused, her big eyes and furrowed eyebrows making her look far more adorable that she realizes, and Clarke nearly shakes her head in disbelief. _She has no idea the effect she has on people_ , Clarke thinks. Lexa has no idea that in the span of one night, she has made Clarke feel more understood and cared for than she has in a long while. She has no idea that Clarke has been feeling the same inexorable pull and yearning for that same sense of belonging ever since they parted at the barricade.

Clarke looks intensely at Lexa, blue eyes burning.

"You."

Lexa's eye widen impossibly. She swallows almost audibly as if swallowing back the shock of Clarke's answer.

"I saw you, from the moment I stepped on stage. And I knew that if we were under different circumstances, if we were just two normal girls at the opposite end of a bar, I would have walked up to you and introduced myself. "

Clarke leans forward, her body still resting against the couch but now thrumming with energy. Blue eyes continue to blaze. "Then I realized nothing was stopping me from doing just that, and I don't regret it one bit."

Lexa is suddenly set aflame with hope and desire. Her mind may not have processed, but her body seems more than ready to receive Clarke's sudden confession.

Lexa is damn good at reading people. She sees a victim in hunched shoulders and flinching movements. She sees a liar in averted glances and rapid eye blinking. One flicker of uncertainty is all Lexa needs to skewer a criminal and leave him out to dry. It's a prerequisite for a successful lawyer like herself to interpret the slightest of body languages, latch onto it in the courtroom, and manipulate it to achieve the outcome she wanted. And right now, Clarke Griffin was giving her all the signs that pointed to a clear and undeniable conclusion of what she was feeling: Attraction. Pure, magnetic, heated attraction. She sees excitement in the quick breaths escaping through open inviting lips. She sees yearning in the way Clarke's body tilts and angles towards Lexa. She sees desire in the dilated pupils of sapphire eyes that always seem to seek out her own at every glance. Lexa saw and registered each and every signal Clarke has sent her way, and she is sure that she has sent equally charged signals right back.

Lexa is not shy of making the first move, especially when she has been given more than enough reasons to believe her actions will be well received. And yet, Lexa is utterly paralyzed, staring at Clarke as the singer leans gently against the couch, chin tilted down yet refusing to break eye contact. Lexa's whole body courses with a desire she didn't know she could possess. Her mind races with the thought of pressing her lips to the crook of Clarke's neck, how soft pale skin would feel underneath Lexa's fingers, how her lips would move when she pressed into them with her own, softly, reverently. Why the hell can't she move?

Clarke, clearly noticing the silence between them grow longer and longer, shuffles her feet and glances down at the ridged edges on the back of her couch. She tries to preoccupy herself and relieve the tension by gently grazing the decorative patterns with the tips of her fingers. Lexa's eyes follow her fingers, and then she remembers the frames of art and drawings decorating Clarke's dressing room. A sudden pang fills Lexa when she realizes how much she wants to see those same delicate fingers grasp the end of a brush and fill canvases with vibrant colors. She wants to see the joy on Clarke's face as she loses herself in her own world, fingers flitting over the black and white keys and melodies filling the air. Her heart swells at the thought of those same fingers interlaced with her own, tangled in warm and well-worn sheets. Her mind shutters to a stop. _Passion_ , Lexa thinks incredulously. God, how could that be? The impossibility of developing such a strong emotion in just an evening baffles Lexa, and yet the evidence is laid entirely bare in front of Lexa. She didn't even know when in the course of the evening she had fallen for Clarke, whether it was their moment at the barricade, her trust in revealing her vulnerability to Lexa, or the first time their eyes met, but she did, and there was no going back.

Lexa opens her mouth, trying to find a way to confess her feelings only to find herself robbed of words. Clarke stops her ministrations, head tilting back up to look up at Lexa inquisitively, her eyebrow arched and asking. Dreadful seconds tick by, and Lexa nearly screams in frustration. Clarke sees Lexa's hesitation and releases a gentle sigh as resignation and a sad smile paint her face. She moves to get up and makes for the door, her eyes downcast and shoulders hunched in embarrassment.

"Oh gosh, look at the time! I've kept you away from your sister for far too long." Clarke laughs forcefully and walks hastily as if she can't wait to get out of the room, her words spilling out far too quickly. She brushes past Lexa as she leaves, her shoulder grazes Lexa and she shivers at the contact. Clarke tries to push it to the back of her mind as she continues past Lexa.

"I'm sure they're nearby, let's go fi-"

A hand suddenly wraps tightly around her arm, stopping Clarke from taking her next step before roughly pulling her into a heated embrace. Another hand wraps around the nape of Clarke's neck and buries itself into sleek blonde hair before pulling her forward. Lips crash into her own, full of softness and passion and tenderness despite the urgency that course through them. Clarke gasps in surprise before melting into the kiss. She moves her lips in matching fervent rhythms as she pressed herself into the slender frame against her. Clarke's heart races and spike of heat pulses through her when she feels an answering press from Lexa as they push impossibly closer. Her arms wrap around Lexa, one hand gripping tightly to the small of her back and another cupping the sharp angle of her jaw. Clarke presses her lips insistently, hungry for more of those sinfully full lips. Clarke runs the tip of her tongue along the bottom of Lexa's lips, and Lexa sucks in a short gasp that ignites a flame in the pit of Clarke's belly. Clarke takes advantage and dips her tongue to flick the roof of Lexa's mouth before enclosing her mouth around her bottom lips and gently sucking. Lexa releases a groan that sounds like it came from deep within her soul, her hands tightening on the back of her neck to keep Clarke as close to her as possible. Clarke shudders in response and feels her body grow impossibly hotter. Their lips move, pushing and pulling, nipping and sucking, one chasing after the other refusing to stop their feverish dance. God, Clarke's kissing Lexa, she's kissing her and it feel like everything she's written and sang about _and more_.

Clarke feels Lexa push forward and takes a step back. Lexa edges them further and further back, all the while never breaking contact between their lips and refusing to let any space get between their tightly pressed bodies. Clarke pulls back and lets out a yelp of surprise when the backs of her thighs bump roughly against a hard edge. Her noise of surprise dissolves into a small moan when she realizes Lexa has pushed her against the make up counter of her dressing room. Lexa swallows Clarke's moan with another fiery kiss. Tongues and lips move in tantalizing and scorching patterns. Lexa releases her grip on Clarke's arm and trails her hand down the side of her body, relishing the shudder that ripples through Clarke while holding a quivering gasp of her own. Her hand travels lower and lower, slowing down as she traces down the curve of Clarke's backside before settling on her back thigh. She lingers, gently grazing her fingertips across the clothed skin, gently asking permission to continue as she savors the warmth that seeps through Clarke's clothes all around her. Clarke merely clutches Lexa closer to her, her hand desperately pushing the small of Lexa's back and kissing her back fervently.

Lexa smirks against Clarke's lips as she simultaneously pushes Clarke forward and lifts her leg up in one fluid movement. Clarke gasps as she slides onto the counter, knocking over bottles of makeup and cans of hairspray in her haste to make room. Desire shoots through her and settles low as she eagerly wraps her legs around Lexa, letting out a groan when she feels Lexa push her hips with just the right pressure and shivering when she hears an answering groan vibrate against her lips. She gasps desperately when lips part from hers only to feel the fingers entangled in her blonde hair suddenly grip tighter. Lexa angles Clarke to the side to reveal a tantalizingly accessible neck. She plants a trail of kisses up the side of Clarke's jaw before landing on her soft pulse point, sucking and biting and nipping at the soft and sweet skin.

" _Lexa_ ," Clarke gasps, unable to contain the want in her voice. She digs her hand further into wavy brown hair, keeping Lexa's head firmly and deliciously latched on her neck as she pants with abandon. Her mind is completely consumed by the wonderful sensations tingling from her neck down her spine as full lips continue to leave dark bruises all over her. Lexa hums in utter satisfaction as she continues to gently suck a path from her neck to the ridge of her collarbone. Clarke clutches tightly to Lexa's shirt and pulls her in, desire fueling her need to feel that wonderful pressure again. Lexa immediately response and rocks her hips firmly into Clarke eager to provide anything and everything for Clarke. Clarke nearly keens at the sensation and grips onto Lexa tighter, begging for her to keep going.

Both women are utterly consumed by each other, unable and unwilling to surrender to the beckoning of reality and common sense. They feel themselves on a precipice, dangerously edging towards something that they know they cannot cross yet can't seem to resist. Mouths meet again, and a fever passes through them both, driving them mad with heat and desire until they both are about to combust.

A sudden peal of laughter far too close to Clarke's dressing room door rips the two women apart, though they remained close enough to still be within each other's arms. Clarke and Lexa cling to each other and try to recover with quick and panting gasps, their foreheads still pressed tightly to each other. They listen to each other's and try to synch their breathes in an effort to calm down. Lexa is trembling as she takes in the enormity of what just occurred. She is still reeling from a kiss so electrifying that just remembering it makes her tingle inside. The two women only vaguely hears the sound of Anya and Raven talking animatedly nearby, oblivious to the passionate display that threatened to change everything either woman understood about love.

Lexa opens her mouth, fully intending on apologizing for launching herself at Clarke, for selfishly indulging her impossible desires, for starting something she wasn't entirely sure she could stop. But nothing tangible was coming out, only a stutter that sounded like a broken record.

"I…I-I…"

She is stopped by a finger pressed firmly to her mouth and a firm hand on her side of jaw.

"Lexa, look at me."

Her face is tilted up until she is staring at blazing blue eyes. Clarke is staring at her, just like before, but with a gaze so fierce and full of emotion Lexa has never seen before. She doesn't think she's seen anything more beautiful in her life.

Clarke's voice rings with urgency. "We don't have much time left before someone has to call it a night. But I want to see you again. And I know you want to see me again too."

Lexa feels her heart swell with desire. She swallows audibly and tightens her grip on Clarke's shirt.

"God yes," Lexa replies breathlessly. "Clarke, I've never wanted anything more. But how is this…going to ever work? What we have, Clarke, what just happened between us, I don't understand it. It…it scares me."

"I know, it scares me too," Clarke's hand trails down Lexa's face down to her collarbone and teases its sharp angles. "It's crazy and ridiculous and goddamn near impossible to comprehend for the both of us, but all I know is that I _need_ _to_ see you again. I've never felt so much for someone, even in just one night. Most of it I can't explain, but what I do know is that I can't let it go before I figure out what it all means. What you mean. What _we_ mean."

Lexa feels her whole body ignite in flames at Clarke's words. She tilts her head forward until her forehead leans against Clarke's. She shakes her head, still struggling to see how this situation could possibly end well.

"Lexa, listen to me," Clarke whispers against trembling lips. "If there's anything I learned about my life as a musician, it's that life doesn't make sense. The fact that I get to live my dream out on stage every day while musicians with more talent and who work harder can barely make rent doesn't compute in my mind. But luck gave me a chance, and I latched onto it with everything I had."

Clarke nuzzles her nose with Lexa's and loves the small sigh Lexa releases as they shift closer. "My life has taught me to never take luck for granted. When I saw you today, it was like I could finally understand the words I'd been singing about all this time. It felt like something out of a fairy tale, something far too lucky to be real. It scares the shit out of me, feeling the way I do around you. But if you think for one second I'm not going to grab onto this feeling and fight for us…"

Clarke falters in her speech, her voice tight and thick with overwhelming emotion.

"Please Lexa," Clarke pleads, her voice trembling. " _Please_. Give luck a chance. Meet me again."

Lexa is shaking, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She cannot believe what she's just heard. She cannot believe that Clarke feels for her this way. She had thought that her untamed affection had been mostly one-sided. At least that way she could try to dismiss it as an exaggerated case of celebrity lust and adrenaline. But now, knowing that Clarke too feels just as affected makes it impossible for Lexa to deny that this woman is literally changing her life minute by minute.

She tugs Clarke closer to her and tilts her mouth to brush their lips together.

"Yes," Lexa whispers before bringing their mouths together. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes…"

Lexa breaks each kiss with every glorious declaration, pressing her mouth into soft lips with increasing tenderness. Clarke grips the nape of Lexa's neck and whimpers, returning each kiss flavored with relief and joy.

"God, Lexa," Clarke breathes, her desperate sigh brushing Lexa's lips as she tries to clamp down on her overwhelming emotions. "This feels…this feels big. This feels like something I didn't know I was waiting for. It feels…"

"Inevitable," Lexa whispers back, clenching a hand that had snuck into Clarke's hair and pulling them closer, their foreheads still pressed tightly against each other. She looks into shining blue eyes and feels her heart clench at the look Clarke is giving her. Clarke looks at Lexa like she is a revelation, like she holds the key to some long forgotten mystery and revealed something utterly life-changing. Lexa feels the same thing looking into blue eyes, feeling as if she's looked up and seen the sky for the first time in her life.

The two women gaze at each other, unable to control their euphoria as they grin stupidly and trail fingers across soft skin. They both move at the same time, lips meeting each other in a soft lingering kiss. Their hands find each other and entwine to bind them together.

They don't question what is between them anymore. They don't question that they are comprised of a promising lawyer and a highly visible celebrity. They wouldn't question the same scenario if they were two girls who met in college, or if they were in the midst of a zombie apocalypse, or if they were two post-war leaders of opposing sides. None of that would matter. Whatever force that flowed between them, be it love or fate or destiny, was enough. No matter how impossible the situation, Clarke and Lexa would always and forever be inevitable.


End file.
